"Coming of the Ice King."
Chapter 7
"M: Talking horses and duels
S: Looks for distractions."
"That insufferable, stupid, overconfident old Coot!"
Came the irritated voice of Mycroft Holmes as he paced back and forth, looking quite frustrated indeed, in Caramel's temporary living quarters among other horses.
Said horse looked up from the bucket of water he was emptying, to watch his master walk from one end to another.
"Thinks I'm a 'Couch Dog', does he? Thinks he's so much better because he has a position of authority, one that even Anderson from Scotland Yard wouldn't dignify with his spit, while I am a 'hunter that doesn't hunt'." It didn't seem possible but his enraged scowl deepened even more. "I should have told him what I do… did back in England!" He quickly corrected himself. "See how he reacts to being placed against a human able to accomplish feats worthy of gods!" Mycroft was in a stride now, moving his hands to accompany his angry rant. "Training cranky murderers and mischievous former thieves, is nothing compared to nearly everything I do on a daily basis; from preventing international catastrophes to making sure my little brother doesn't kill himself with his reckless experiments!"
The chestnut horse still offered no comment, opting instead to chew on some of the dry grass on the floor.
"I'll pop that swollen ego of his, I swear I will!" He promised through gritted teeth. "Mark my words Caramel, I'll make him eat those words!"
The mount looked up at him, a bead of grass sticking out of his mouth as he snorted.
'While the idea itself sounds appealing,' the horse spoke, thanks to the powers of Mycroft's Mind Palace, in a similar way Sherlock's skull does, when there is no one intelligent around to consult with. 'That is not the real reason you're so angry.'
"What are you talking about?" Mycroft glared over his shoulder. "He insulted me, of course that's why I'm angry!"
'Denial doesn't suit you, Mycroft.' Caramel snorted, dipping his proud head in a water bucket prepared for him by the stable boy.
"That is precisely why I'm not in denial, you oaf!" The elder Holmes countered, his voice sharp as a knife.
'I believe that's exactly what a person in denial would say.'
"What a brilliant deduction." Mycroft grumbled rolling his eyes. "Become Westeros's first consulting detective, why don't you?" He snapped. "If Sherlock is anything to go by, you'll earn a fortune pointing out the absolute obvious to everyone's sheer amazement."
'Now you're just being rude.' Caramel whined, showing his yellow teeth. 'And rather obviously changing the topic!'
"I'm both angry and frustrated." The former shadow behind the British Government grumbled. "I believe I'm perfectly justified in having my foul mood."
'Justified? How so?' The horse clicked its tongue. 'You don't even know why you're so angry in the first place.'
"Alright then, Mr. Omniscient-and-never-wrong Horse." Mycroft threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Please enlighten me as to the cause of my enormous irritation."
'Well…since you asked so nicely.'
"Do. Not. Test me, Caramel."
'…as you wish, Master.' The horse huffed, his breath causing a few pieces of shredded grass to hit the fox-haired Holmes square in the face. 'Now, as I was saying, the reason you are so angry is not because of something he did to you, like you seem determinate to believe, but because of something he did to someone else.'
Quickly realizing where this conversation was heading, Mycroft groaned loudly.
"Don't go there, Caramel." He warned while rubbing his face with his right hand.
But the horse, or rather the voice his Mind Palace gifted the stallion with, didn't stop.
'You're angry that he was actually stupid enough to stand up to you, instead of covering at your feet like everyone did back in England.' The horse then looked him straight in the eye. 'Despite all your efforts he still accomplished what he wanted, making you feel powerless for the first time in forever.'
Still rubbing his face the elder Holmes only offered an angry grunt in response.
'It also doesn't help that Jon reminds you of your little brother.'
"That's enough.'' The older Holmes said in a warning tone.
'Therefore your brotherly feelings have been transferred to him.'
"I said enough, Caramel!" Mycroft unexpectedly bellowed, his loud commanding voice startling the three stable boys cleaning the nearby boxes. "Enough…" He added quieter this time.
'The truth hurts but what can you do?'
"Shut up, already." The elder Holmes threw a rug at his chestnut mount. "You've made your point and I heard it, now… if you excuse me." He then marched towards the stable door.
'And where are you going?'
Mycroft's head turned back to the horse with a mischievous smile on his face.
"Why, to avenge my honor of course."
'You really are a stubborn idiot, you know that Mycroft?!' The horse neighed in his direction.
"Language, Caramel!" The red haired man called back.
'That's not even a curse!'
"It is in my book, you impudent horse!"
Said animal huffed, quite irritated.
'And the word 'impudent' somehow isn't?!'
"As one very smart man once said 'Do as I say, not as I do.'"
The horse was left spluttering for a few seconds before bellowing:
'You and I both know, I'm right!' He neighed. 'I don't know who you are trying to fool, but you're not fooling anyone!'
"Even if that's true, what does it matter?" Mycroft yelled back. "Once all this nonsense is over it's not like I'll be seeing him again!"
With those words spoken the elder Holmes brother squared his shoulders, and resumed his journey towards the meeting point. Completely ignoring the baffled and quite confused faces of the unfortunate stable boys, which had the misfortune of witnessing his, rather loud and one-sided, argument with a horse.
"I believe we should free Jon Snow from his oath to the Night Watch." Mother said from her spot in the God circle.
"Hmm?" Father blinked, pulled out of thought by his wife's voice. "Why do you think we should do that?"
The kind and caring goddess smiled.
"He reminds our Chosen One of someone very dear to him." She began softly. "Even now he is heading towards the Night Watch training grounds to fight for the right to bargain his release from previously established punishments, despite feverishly trying to convince himself that he's doing so to protect his own honor."
"Ah…" Crone nodded her head in understanding. "You believe that, if we let Jon Snow accompany our chosen champion, he won't be distracted by his worry about him, during the rest of the journey."
Mother nodded.
"Though that is the main reason why I vouch for it…there is also the problem of Mycroft Holme knowing little about the world he is expected to save." The caring goddess added. "It would be wise to set him off with a guide that has knowledge about the overall situation."
Father hummed as he thought about what was being proposed, before nodding his proud head in silent agreement.
"Very well…I see no reason why we shouldn't do as you say."
"The Lord Commander might not believe him." Stranger, who was quiet up until this point, decided to voice the concern that no one else seems to notice. "He may even view this as desertion."
"Ah…" Crone nodded, seeing her brother's point. "Well, they can always leave… during the night."
"You came." Were the first words that reached Mycroft's ears, which weren't supplied by voice in his mind, once he finally entered the training grounds.
The place was already crowded with excited Night Watch onlookers, all of them eager to see their trainer use the skills they're perfecting in actually combat and, hopefully, knocked down a peg or two.
Naturally the team that accompanied him to this place wasn't among them, probably already engaged in whatever punishments were assigned to them.
A small fact Mycroft plans to rectify.
As he neared the small clearing where their duel was supposed to take place, he noticed that his opponent was already there, looking as if he didn't really believe Mycroft would actually show up. A fact backed up by the somewhat bewildered sentence he uttered upon noticing him.
"You actually came."
"I did." The fox-haired man nodded, coming to a stop a full meter from Denner Frostfinger, and narrowing his eyes at the man. "Where you expecting anything else?"
The black haired man frowned.
"You are no warrior." He stated, as if that alone justified his apparent disbelief.
"Yes." Mycroft agreed slowly for that was true. He hasn't been in the field in years and his skills were little more than rusty, due to his dislike for physical activity. "However, I am also no coward." He glared at the knight before him through narrowed eyes. "I don't back down from challenges."
Denner smiled at him, the arrogant bastard.
"A mentality like that might get you killed one day, kid." He said, shaking his head as if the elder Holmes was just one of his underlings challenging him to a fight he can't win. "Are you sure you want to do this? I am willing to call this all off and save you a trip to the medical center, if you get on your knees and apologize for the things you said earlier."
Mycroft's hard, unyielding glare told the man everything he needed to know.
The other man shrugged, smile still on his lips.
"Suit yourself." Denner said walking up to a nearby weapon holder and pulling out a sword, before throwing it to Mycroft's feet. A sword that was usually to the disposal of recruits that already perfected the art enough to not cut themselves with it.
The elder Holmes watched it slide on the icy floor till it hit his toes, and then looked back up at his opponent, eyebrow raised questionably.
"You think I'm going to let you gut me with those knives of yours?" Denner laughed at the perplexed look the red-haired man gave him. "No, my friend, we're fighting this duel on my rules. And that means you also have to use a sword."
Mycroft gritted his teeth as he bent over to pick the weapon up.
This will complicate things a bit, as his experience with the close-ranged weapon was limited to looking at one on a tour of the British Museum when he was five, and watching one or two 'King Arthur' movies when being a knight of the round table was Sherlock's 'Obsession of the Week'.
He weighed the thing in his hand, his mental scale comparing it to that of his new hunting knives.
Heavy… Mycroft thought with a note of disappointment. A bit too much so, for me to be able to wield it in only one hand. He sighed. So it's a two-handed sword. Perfect for people wearing armor heavy enough to take hits without receiving damage, as they leave themselves open with every attack. He frowned at his reflection in the polished blade. Not to mention all the strength it takes just to swing it around at a reasonable pace.
Mastering such a weapon takes years of practice.
Practice that Mycroft just didn't have.
Denner must have noticed his disappointment for he chuckled.
"Oh I'm sorry, are you by any chance not proficient in this type of combat?" He asked, not sounding the tiniest bit apologetic. "How unfortunate."
Mycroft send him another death glare but otherwise did nothing.
True. He thought, gripping the handle with both hands, in order to get used to the feeling of having them both tied to one place. I may lack the training you have when it comes to sword fighting…
The elder Holmes then did a few practice swings, ignoring the other man's dry chuckle at his obvious inexperience.
But perhaps… He thought, leveling the blade up to his eyes and staring deep into the eyes of his reflection. If I plan this right… I might not even need it.
"Are you done praying to your weapon?" Frostfinger said, his voice sarcastic and filled with impatience. "I don't have all day."
"Before we start," the fox-haired man said, earning a grunt in response. "I would like to put some stakes into this little duel."
Denner's eyebrow rose up.
"Oh?" He stroked his black beard. "Let's hear them then."
"If I win, I want you to release Jon Snow and his companions from the punishments they received for saving my life."
"And…" Frostfinger's sword moved around in lazy swings. "What do I get if I win?"
"I take said punishments myself, for an entire year."
Denner snorts.
"I'd rather push you off the Wall."
After taking a second to considerate, the elder Holmes brother nodded his head gravely.
"Do we have a deal then?"
The man responsible for training recruits suddenly looked deep into the other man's eyes. His own, shining in obvious disbelief that Mycroft would ever suggest taking such a risk, especially knowing that his chances of winning are meek at best.
Seeing that the steel eyes showed no signs of backing away from that offer, Denner only grinned and nodded his head.
"Indeed we do, kid."
Hearing that, Mycroft lowered his sword and mimicked a pose he once saw on a 'Star Wars' poster on his way to university.
"Then I'm ready when you are, Old Man." He taunted, hoping the insult will have the desired effect and enrage the older man into attacking first.
If you keep insisting on calling me 'kid'. He thought. 'Then I will respond in a similar fashion.'
He wasn't wrong.
"I'll show you old!" Denner yelled before rushing at his opponent at top speed, sword already prepared for a devastating swipe to the chest.
But Mycroft was only half-aware of what Frostfinger was doing, as most of his focus was concentrating on the calculations his brain was coming up with.
Allow the swipe to make contact. Hiss when the blades connect: lull into a false sense of security. Play the role of an inexperienced fighter: Make him think you're nothing against him. Look sloppy, barely keeping up: Allow his pattern to show, tire him out.
It was Frostfinger's battle cry that woke him up, literal seconds before the two blades clashed, sending waves of sharp pain up his forearms that were so strong, the planned hiss was quite genuine.
For the sake of his plan's success the older Holmes allowed his reflexes to slow down. Letting his sword bounce away in every direction after each powerful attack, and barely dodging the swings that took advantage of the large openings he left behind.
After-first-contact analysis: Swipes are methodical and precise: Increase speed to avoid serious injury. Attacks are straightforward and strong, relying on physical force rather than stamina. Conclusion: Let him strike and push you however he sees fit, but do not allow any of his attacks to strike home. This will force him to result to gradual irritation and the sporadic upgrading of techniques, eventually leading to him showing his full capabilities. Once pattern is exposed… show no mercy.
The battle went exactly like the elder Holmes predicted it would.
With every just barely avoided attack, Denner grew angrier and angrier, his annoyment at not being able to best a clearly inexperienced fighter, making him use techniques that were way above those of the surrounding recruits.
He wanted to show this arrogant stranger that he is completely out of his league, and make him wish he never opened his mouth in the first place.
Each following attack was more advanced than the last, leading the two combatants to walk circles around each other, sparks flying from the clashing metal.
The recruits watching the heated battle noticed, with no small amount of worry, that their instructor was close to blowing a fuse because of his opponent's nearly impenetrable defense.
At some point, when the other man's blade came close to actually slashing his neck open, if not for a impromptu dodge, Mycroft decided that enough is enough.
His opponent, while slashing and hacking at him at an incredible speed, didn't notice that the fox-haired man actually dropped his weapon.
To the shocked onlookers it looked as if he could actually predict the future. Dodging each and every attack as if he saw them coming, long before the man even thought of performing them himself.
With the pattern clearly mapped out in his head, Mycroft had no trouble accurately predicting the man's next moves in his head. It was child's play really.
After spotting the opening he was looking for, he prepared for his first, and last, offensive move.
When Denner was half-way through a vertical slash, the older Holmes grabbed his forearms and, after simultaneously placing himself under them, performed a judo throw he learned during his training in MI6, that launched the unfortunate instructor high into the air, and straight into the same wooden sword holder that their weapons came from not so long ago.
The students watched the scene with bewildered eyes wide as plates as their most feared instructor crashed into the equipment, crushing the wooden contraption into tiny pieces. The impact effectively knocked him out cold.
"Well…" Hearing the other man's voice made every student immediately look in his direction, as he dusted his clothes off. "I believe that would be the end of this fascinating battle."
After noticing that all the recruits were looking at him as if he just made a mountain move out of his way, the elder Holmes raised an eyebrow at them and said.
"What are you waiting for?" He shooed them away with his hand. "Go and tell Jon and his friends the exciting news."
The minute those words left his mouth, the entire group rushed towards the main compound. Each wanting to please their newfound hero and, hoping deep in their hearts, that one day he'll teach them how to perform such tricks as well.
Leaving Mycroft to shake his head, dig out the unconscious Frostfinger from under all the rubble, and take him to the medical centre nearby.
"Give me a case."
"You already have one."
"Fabricated. Give me a case."
"Sherlock…"
"I don't care what you were led to believe, it's all lies! This, all of this: This supposed case, the video of him disappearing out of the blue… this is all part of some sick revenge plan my brother conjured up to make me feel guilty!"
"...do you really believe Mycroft would use such a underhanded method to teach you a lesson?"
"Yes! Yes, I do! Why does no one else see that?!"
"I...think I can tell you why."
"Then please, enlighten me then!"
"He left his umbrella."
"... what?"
"His black brolly… Anthea said the Secret Service found it occupying its usual spot next to his bed…"
"..."
"What do you think now, Sherlock?"
"..."
"... Sherlock?"
"Just give me a case, Geoff."
AN: I suck at fight scenes T-T
Also big thanks to my wonderful beta reader Wojtas121PL! Thank you so much for your help, I couldn't have done this without you! :D